As a requirement for my parapsychology thesis, I’m having to interview several people and ask them a few questions. Normally, the scope of personnel interviewed are limited to corporate employees and their immediate families in the corp resplex, but I’ve opted to seek out a more…alternative subject base; those who live in the shadows and work beyond the boundaries of the law (besides, the tridnews is always talking about them, and I just HAD to try and meet them!)

Here are those I’ve met and spoken to. In most cases, names have been changed to protect the integrity and privacy of those interviewed (and to make sure I’m still sucking air when I go back home for Thanksgiving!)

Before I even started, I was initially uncertain in regards of finding a valid candidate. My time was limited (having skipped out of my Intro to Awakened Animals class), and I was not familiar with the concrete jungle of the sprawl beyond the campus grounds owned by the corporation. I trusted my luck to a cab driver who took me to a club called “Dante’s”, outside of which, the driver assured me, many people who work and live on the “fringe” of society like to hang out. So I sat outside the bar (which, I later found out, is a totally happening place!) and read my Shakespeare (reading assignment) until a viable candidate showed up.

I was at first skeptical, given the type of people who breezed by me. I met a troll (Homo Sapiens Ingentis – see? I pay attention in parabio class!) but given his unwillingness to cooperate (and the huge LMG he pointed at me!) I opted to wait for someone else. Then another taxi pulled out and coughed up an elf who was polite enough, but then he went on this rant about the superiority of elves. After the guy suggested I kick every non-elf who came by, I let this candidate go (but isn’t racism just as much a part of the street? Most of the fights outside corporate territory happen because of racial issues – at least, according to the tridnews!).

That’s when I met Subject One: a woman who approached me from up 4th Street. We met just outside Dante’s, where she looked real flash (at first I thought she was one of those sex-for-sale women – wow, was I ever embarrassed!) She was really easy to talk to and she even told me she was a mage (cool! The only magic-users I’d even seen were those really creepy guys who hang out in the furthest corner of the campus cafeteria - lots of explosions happen there!) She declined my taking a photo of her, but she did agree to an interview and proceeded to lead me inside the club for a booth and some privacy (the troll bouncer didn’t give me a second look, and I’m betting all my corp scrip against a button-spider’s rear end that the bardender wouldn’t have asked me for ID! I have got to remember this place the next time my suite-mates and I got clubbing!)

Q: What are you? A runner, or a shadowrunner?
A: Runner. Though I dont think there's a shadowrunner out there that'd like to be exposed as such. A runner can be classified as someone who just does oddjobs for a living. Running around for clients who intend to pay them for services. An attorney service agent can be considered a runner.

Q: So, you're saying that you're like a lawyer?
A: (shakes her head) An attorney service agent rarely goes to court. They serve attorneys: do the gruntwork... the..oddjobs. It was an example. I'd be fine doing that, but my services are tuned to that of magical nature.

Q: How long have you been a runner?
A: Officially, probably 2 and a half years.

Q: Without getting into much detail, what do you do?
A: I dont feel like you're understanding me fully. I'd like not to be misrepresented.

Q: How much nuyen do you make per night?
A: Depends on the day..depends on the job. I think my record was aquiring 250,000 nuyen in a 24 hour period.

Q: What do you think of the law?
A: The law? Well, since it's put into corporate hands, I think it's gone down the tubes. Only people with money are protected.

Q: Then let’s go with that. What do you think of the corps?
A: They're awesome businesses. They provide the public with lots of jobs, but as we all know, they've gone from financial greed to power hungry.

Q: Apart from the money, what do you hope to achieve by doing what you do?
A: Knowledge, wisdom and influence.

Q: Who’s your favorite media personality?
A: I haven't watched the trid much since i was a kid. Dont even have one in my apartment.

Q: What are you having for dinner tonight?
A: (shows a Meal-Ready-To-Eat (MRE) package)

Q: Are you married?
A: No

Q: Do you have any children?
A: Nope.

Q: Have you ever been shot?
A: A few times. It happens when gangs are allowed to rule the streets.

Q: Have you ever been arrested?
A: (Shakes her head no)

Q: What cyberware do you own?
A: None. The affect of cyberware on a mage is catastrophic...that is..if they fully appreciate their ability to use it.

Q: Do you vote?
A: No. I don’t pay attention to politics. Nowadays, it's like professional wrestling was [back in the 5th Age]. Fake. Staged. Fully controlled by the highest paying corporation.

Q: Who do you respect?
A: Hmmmm. I respect anyone who takes on old values. Those who choose to win...those who choose to prosper.. those that act unselfishly. I guess my main role model has always been my uncle. He raised me. Also Molly, my business partner. She's one of the people I respect, if you wanna put that in too.

Having concluded my interview (it was 1 in the morning, and I didn’t want the resplex nightwatch to discover the door I’d left unlocked), I thanked Subject One and packed my writing material. For some unknown reason, however, as I was leaving the bar, I noticed that many of the establishment’s clientelle were staring at me. Even as I took my cab back to corp-owned territory and snuck back into the resplex, I felt oddly…refreshed. For a moment I was terrified of having inhaled some air-borne hallucinogen, of which I’m sure there was present in the bar…and in great number. It wasn’t until I saw my reflection in the mirror behind my dorm’s door that I saw how flash I looked! Despite hours in the unsanitized streets, sitting on a cracked curb outside a smoke-filled bar and performing an interview in a grungy booth, I looked like I’d just stepped out of the ‘fresher! Despite my fatigue, I looked better then I felt! Don’t know the cause of it at this time. Perhaps Subject One had something do to with it?

Subject Two is a foreigner to Seattle, as revealed by his accent. I met him while scoping out some off-campus employment in Auburn (to help pay for my textbooks and take the bite out of the tuition costs). When I later met him again outside of Dante’s and the late afternoon, he agreed to an interview. He took me up 4th Street and then down Ridgeway to a coffeeshop called the Top Shelf Bookstore. (I like to have my candidates choose where the interview takes place to make them feel more comfortable).

The man, a human and doning Russian military attire, spoke very little and answered my question very pointedly. I attribute this to perhaps his unfamiliarity of the English language. (His cuban cigar kinda reeked, but he did buy me a cup of soykaf.)

Q: What are you? A runner, or a shadowrunner?
A: No difference. I am who I am.

Q: How long have you been a runner?
A: Long time. After I left the Motherland.
Q: Well, I mean, days? Months? Years?
A: Years.

Q: Without getting in too much detail, what do you do?
A: I Drive. I do other things as well.
Q: Like what?
A: (held out his hand and made a small flame appear out of nowhere. Then closed his hand and the flame disappeared).
Q: So, you're a mage! You're a driver and a mage? Do you work for one person or corp exclusively, or do you do freelance work?
A: Freelance.

Q: How much nuyen do you make per night?
A: (Laughs.) I’m not the rich man if that what you mean.
Q: I mean...ballpark. Gimme a number close to the target zone.
A: (shrugs) 50,000 nuyen maybe.

Q: What do you think of the law?
A: Lonestars good when they stay out of way.

Q: What do you think of the corporations?
A: Money for the taking.

Q: Apart from the money, what do you hope to achieve by doing what you do?
A: I’m just trying to make living, dont care much ‘bout accomplishing anything.

Q: Have you ever been shot?
A: (nods and then pulls back his coat sleeve showing an old circular scar on his bicep) Once in the arm, once in the leg.
Q: Who pulled the trigger?
A: You didnt want names, remember? Lets say someone that didnt like me.

Q: Have you ever been arrested?
A: (nodding) Not in Seattle.
Q: Right. You've been around the world, huh?
A: (nods again)
Q: Okay, let's go with that. Where've you been?
A: London, Denver, Tir na nOg, Mother Russia of course, lots of places.
Q: What's been, so far, your favorite place to visit. And why?
A: There’s no place like home.
Q: And where's the worst place you've been. Again, why?
A: (did no respond)

Q: What cyberware do you own?
A: None. Magic, remember?

Q: Do you vote? I mean, maybe not for the UCAS, but in your home country?
A: (shakes his head no)

Q: Who do you respect?
A: I respect those who’ve earned my respect.
Q: And....those kind of people are usually....
A: Friends and Family.

Given the brievity of his answers and the short length of the interview, I was able to thank Subject Two and returned to my resplex before lockdown. (I even caught most of Slip Shadow Sara’s tridconcert on our suite’s wall-sized holopanel! I would SO kill for tickets!)

With the success rate of finding valid candidates for interview in front of the Dante's establishment, I immediately took a cab there after my Corporate Ethics professor cancelled her class (something about her sister who works for Ares down near Chicago).

A cup of soycaf and a bagel, a spot away from the devil rats and something growing on the walls, I worked more on my reading assignment ("Now, by my scepter and my soul to boot, He hath more worthy interest to the state than thou the shadow of succession").

Before long, a number of people made their way to and from the estabishment, yet few made any attempts to acknowledge my presence, if only momentarily before going about their business. This is when I encounted Subject Three: a male ork (homo sapiens robustus - aced my parabiology quiz this morning!) I admit at being rather intimidated by this man; most of the orks I've encountered are either dressed impeccably in black and never more then twelve inches away from the coporation's major stock-holders, or they're the ones in the cafeteria who hand us our meals across the counter. I mean, to actually speak and converse with one...?

However, he seemed polite (enough not to stick a gun in my face) and showed proof of being rather introspective and gave my questions some thought before answering them (quite a change from the Orks who lead the Seattle Timberwolves combat bike team!) He agreed to an interview (after telling about this OTHER really jumping club in the basement of Renraku!) so I once again let myself be led into Dante's. Having taken the elevator (I didn't know that there were multiple levels in this place!) I followed him to a private booth on the 4th level and began the interview:

Q: What are you? A runner, or a shadowrunner?
A: Well, if those are the only options, I'm a shadowrunner

Q: How long have you been a runner?
A: About 30 years. Started when I was 12.

Q: Without getting into much detail, what do you do?
A: For the most part I do work for the runners. I've done some bad things in my past and seen the effects it has on our fair city. So now I try and maintain the balance of things by killing those that cause problems.

Q: How much nuyen do you make per night?
A: On a good night? 500K or so.

Q: What do you think of the law?
A: The Lone Star? Good idea, poor execution.
A: How so?
Q: The law is a good idea: maintains order. But they are too weak compared to today's runners. Even the fresh ones in the biz can cut em down.

Q: What do you think of the corps?
A: I work for them. Ares and Novatech mostly. Don't care much for Renraku, and Aztech is neutral at the moment.
Q: So, they hire you on occasion. But what do you think of them as a body? As an idea?
A: Ares, I like their direction. Novatech's got some okay ideas but I don't know much outside of [the fact that] they pay rather well.

Q: Apart from the money, what do you hope to achieve by doing what you do?
A: (shrugging) Nothing more than anyone working in some dead end job. I just want to be able to live well. I'd like to see the sprawl cleaned up. Less trash walking the streets.

Q: Who’s your favorite media personality?
A: Media personality? I don't really watch any trid.
Q: Somebody you like on the trid, or a dreamqueen you think is real hot, or whatever!
A: I haven't honestly watched more than 30 seconds on the trid in the last 20 years.

Q: What are you having for dinner tonight?
A: T-bone steak and mashed potatoes with a coke chaser. Same thing I have every night. Unless a friend of mine makes me some dinner.

Q: Are you married?
A: (holds up his hand) No marriage ring here.

Q: Do you have any children?
A: (shakes his head no) Unless clones count.
Q: Clones?
A: (nods solemnly)

Q: Have you ever been shot?
A: Many times. But most don't live to brag about it.

Q: Have you ever been arrested?
A: (nods) "Once."

Q: What cyberware do you own?
A: Move-by-wire IV, Smartlink-2 system, and a few other components that I'll keep to myself. (grins evily)
Q: And what does all that chrome do?
A: Smartlink-2 system allows me in interface with my gun for increased accuracy; move-by-wire increases my reaction tenfold - but also is what will end up killing me, most likely.
Q: Oh? How come?
A: I'll continue to move faster and faster until my body convulses into seizures and my heart will stop shortly after.
Q: And that doesn't worry you?
A: (shrugs helplessly) Death is inevitable. Besides, pain is the only way we know we're alive.

Q: Do you vote?
A: Last time I voted was for Dunk. Haven't seen reason to since.
Q: You mean Dunkelzahn the dragon?
A: (nods)
Q: What was your reaction when he was assassinated?
A: I was quite pissed. Killed my share of people that day.

Q: Who do you respect?
A: Now I thought you said no names?
Q: Well, no names in particular. Just the kind of person you can relate to.
A: Well, there are some runners who I look up to. Most of which are long gone - rest their souls.
Q: What was it about them that you looked up to?
A: Their sense of honor. They didn't let themselves get messed-up in petty fighting. They did what was right by them no matter what anyone else said. They stayed true to themselves. The names of the two runners I look up to most [are] Sean of the ShadowSaints and Cordt.

Upon the completion of the interview, I thanked Subject Three who led me back outside the estabishment, where a throng of other people had collected (or rather gathered like a pack of wolves!) For my own safety I took the nearest cab back to my resiplex, and that's when I realized that false dawn was already creeping on the horizon. Rather than risk sneaking back into my resiplex (the door I usually leave unlocked had most likely been discovered by now!), I opted to have the cab driver take me to the corporate university campus. My PDT allowed me to enter the library where I locked myself into a trid/vid booth and rested for about an hour until the day's first class started.

The events leading to and after this particular interview have raised some doubts into my decision to gather information from beyond corporate-controlled territory. (If Dad and Mom ever found out, I know that they'd pull me out of university and never take me within a hundred miles of Seattle!)

It all begin simple enough. Having completed my homework (Corporate Financial Structure! It pays to have a decker as a suite-mate!), I slipped out of the resplex after making sure the back door was unlocked and I took a cab to Dante's. A rather small crowd had gathered there, so I sat quietly at a respectable distance, looking around for a plausible candidate to appear. I've so far discovered that this unassuming little bar is the principal hangout for street fixers and shadowrunners from all over the city! On any given day, one can count among those present outside the establishment mercenaries (coined "street samurai" by the vidcasts), mages, shamans, deckers, fixers, and riggers. All from various races and walks of life (very different from what the corp's advids tell us what life outside the corporation zone is like!)

I was in the process of opening a discussion with a certain candidate (he seemed willing to talk to me, but was dissuaded by what looked like his girlfriend), when gunfire suddenly erupted! Nearby, a Lone Star officer on patrol had obviously glimpsed something not to his liking as he had drawn his service revolver and proceeded to shoot into the crowd! (Our corporate secteams would NEVER act that way! They are respectable of other people!!) His target - an elven Night-One with a coat of silver hair - was quick enough to kill the officer first in a way that, terribly, looked all too familiar to him! I suppose that, in hindsight, the excitement, fear, adrenaline, and image of the officer's corpse just lying there in the middle of the street was too much for me, and I was overwhelmed with a wave of nausea (and proceeded to puke my cafeteria food all over the brick wall. In front of everybody! Yay, me.)

Some of the people in the crowd were understanding of my condition, but a heated discussion soon arose amidst them regarding the death of the officer and the effects such an action had on an (obvious) innocent bystander such and myself. In horror at being the center of an argument between armed and manical people, I fled the scene, terrified that such anger might be re-directed towards me.

I found shelter in a nearby dark alley, trembling, and in fear for my life! Yet somehow I found the courage and resolve to return to Dante's, fired with the conviction that these are exactly the type of people I had left the corporate campus to find! Each interview, I told myself, was a step closer to completing my thesis and successfully graduating from university, after which a promising career in the corporation was awaiting me!

So, hardened with resolve, I seeked the silver-furred Night-One - the same man who, just moments ago, had murdered the Lone Star officer, and asked him for an interview.

Not only did he not kill me (would have put a dampener on my career, I bet!), but he agreed, and led me to a raucous bar called "The Chaos!" ("Se-curo Ja!" in our mother tongue - the irony was not lost on me).

Under the gaze of naked dancers gyrating to heavy metal rock, I interviewed Subject Four:

Q: What are you? A runner, or a shadowrunner?
A: I didn't realize there was a difference. I'm just some nobody trying to make a living. I suppose I'll pick shadowrunner. Kinda does sound cooler in comparison. They seem close enough to me.

Q: How long have you been a runner?
A: I was born in the shadows, so you could say my date of birth is when I started.
Q: You were born in the shadows?
A: You could say that. I was born in a dumpster to be more precise.
Q: Who was your family? Who taught you to walk and talk?
A: My family? Well, my mother was a two-bit novacoke whore. [I] never knew my father. Nobody really taught me anything. I just picked up things as time went along. (gestures towards his eyes) So, I believe these would be the only scholars I had.

Q: Without getting into much detail, what do you do?
A: I work for whoever pays the most nuyen. You'd be surprised how much some people are willing to offer to have someone they dislike taken care of. So in layman's terms: I kill people.

Q: How much nuyen do you make per night?
A: Depends on how much work I put forth. Several million isn't unheard of.
Q: That's a lot of nuyen!
A: So I hear. I give most of it away. I have little need for it.
Q: You give it away? To who??
A: Those who are less fortunate, which pretty much sums up everyone in Seattle. I prefer giving it to homeless children and street urchins.

Q: What do you think of the law?
A: There's law here in the UCAS? News to me!
Q: You did kill that Lone Star officer on the street!
A: Merely self defense. Only law I believe in.

Q: What do you think of the corps?
A: Never was fond of suits and ties, although I'd like them even better if 'corps' had an 'e' on the end of it, if you catch my drift.

Q: Apart from the money, what do you hope to achieve by doing what you do?
A: I hope to find a worthy opponent: someone who's hands are quicker than their mouth. There are too many around here that lack such ability.

Q: Who’s your favorite media personality?
A: I never really owned a trid or watched much of it. I saw Dunk on it once: he seemed pretty on the level. You know, aside from being a huge-assed fire-breathing dragon. I think we would get along nicely.
Q: You are aware that Dunkelzahn was assassinated?How did you react when you found that out?
A: Pity, isn't it? My reaction was one of disbelief.

Q: What are you having for dinner tonight?
A: Poached owl. Maybe lobster. Wash it down with some Taengele.

Q: Are you married?
A: (chuckles) With this ugly mug? I wish! No, I'm not married.

Q: Do you have any children?
A: Two, actually. A boy and a girl. They're nothing like me, thankfully.

Q: Have you ever been shot?
A: Are you serious? It'd take hours to point them all out. Lets just say I've had my fair share.
Q: No mention of who exactly. Why, and where?
A: I've been shot by more of these so-called "shadowrunners" than [by] any corporation or law-enforcement agency. (gestures towards the center of his back) And, unsurprisingly, this seems to be their favourite target.

Q: Have you ever been arrested?
A: Not in the UCAS.
Q: So you've been in places other than the UCAS?
A: [I] was born in Stockholm, Sweden. I've been to many other places, my birthplace being the only one I've been arrested in.

Q: What cyberware do you own?
A: Cyberware? Never touched the stuff.

Q: Do you vote?
A: Never have. I somehow doubt I'll be able to without a SIN. Not like they'd count my vote anyway.

Q: Who do you respect?
A: Myself. I haven't found any others worthy of my respect, especially not in this city.
Q: Let's go with that, then. What attributes are you looking for in other people for you to be able to respect them?
A: Honesty. Integrity. Heart. People who don't know the meaning of "give up", and those that keep their word once they give it, no matter the consequence. Too few and far between they are.

Upon completion of the interview, I thanked Subject Four and returned to my resplex a few hours before my Parabio quiz. Having fallen asleep, however, I could not help but replay the image of Subject Four killing the Lone Star officer. In my nightmarish visions, the phantasmal gun was then be pointed at me and the trigger pulled. (Unreal! I can skim a Vampirioid BTL without flinching, and have watched newstrids about Yak torture practices with no problem, but this...?)

I awoke, mere minutes before my scheduled class, and rushed to be on time. But, between my fatigue, shock at the previous night's events, and other factors, I fell unconscious on the campus grounds, directly in front of the marble statuary etched with the corporation's logo!

To stem the tide of fear I've come to associate with Dante's, I've opted to look elsewhere for valid candidates. My MatrixStats class was postponed (seems the university was hacked into by some students who did fuzzy things to their grades) so I was able to leave the campus sooner than usual. A small fortune went in cab fares from Seattle to Tacoma to Auburn and Renton and back again (the ork driver who sucked in all my corp scrip sure didn't seem to mind!). I even breezed by a bar where a kind woman once gave me free food and initially gave me the idea of interviewing people out of the corporate zone, but there was nobody there.

It was karma that I would return to the anarchic curb outside Dante's, then, for no sooner had I sat on the ground, hovering at the shadows, that a pair of candidates, Subjects Five and Six, voiced their agreements to an interview. (I'd asked one of them for an interview before, but had been turned down flatter than a holodisc!) He was a male human, tall but fairly nondescript. She a similarly tall elven woman I originally assumed to be his secretary, but the truth, as I was to discover, was totally different.

I was taken into Dante's once again, this time to the fifth sub-level and it's morbidly cool shades of blue and white. Once in a private booth, I conducted the interview with both the man (A1) and the elf (A2):

Q: What are you? A runner, or a shadowrunner?
A1: Hmmm, whatever I'm paid to be, I guess. Don't really care what they call it.
A2: I'm a...consultant, I guess. I'm payed to help people do what they need to be done.

Q: How long have you been a runner?
A2: You mean consultant? Like a month or two since I arrived to seattle. There's a lot of demand here.
A1: Not too long. About a year, give or take.

Q: Without getting into much detail, what do you do?
A1: Well, it varies. There's some jobs I won't take, though. The jobs I prefer, though, are those within the matrix, but [you've] got to take what you can get. So I've had to learn other skills. [Fishes an ultrathin cyberdeck from a bag] My baby!
A2: I usually fill more...really worldly kinda jobs...if it's not breaking some of my rules of behavior. I think that tridnews would call me more [of] a gun to hire. I'm not as techno headed as the 'decker-like' guy. Dont need to show you an assault rifle, I presume. You saw "Return of the Razor-girl " on the trid, nah?

Q: How much nuyen do you make per night?
A1: Depends on how hard I work, which entirely depends on my expenses at the time.
A2: Not much. Depends. From 5k to 25k nuyen. Depends on Johnnies and the work.

Q: What do you think of the law?
A1: The law, for the most part, is a joke. Most people realize this. The thing is, though, you don't want to play with that joke too often or they swarm.
A2: It only applies to the people that make it, nah?By the corps , for the corps. To me, it's only used to oppress SINless and poor people. Nowadays laws, I mean.

Q: What do you think of the corps?
A1 Not to be trusted. Ever. They are a good paycheck if you are careful, though.
A2 Power-hungry, people-exploiting, untrusty associations of the worst criminals on the planet. Is this enough for you?

Q: Apart from the money, what do you hope to achieve by doing what you do?
A2: Sometimes we can do things we assume to be right with that money. Sometimes we have personnal goals to achieve.
Q: And those goals include...?
A2: Sometimes we don't have any other way to get food in our stomachs.
A1: Most of us are just out to survive. We didn't ask to be here doing this stuff. The choices are rather limited sometimes, though. You might get some that say they are out to undo some injustice or trying to work for a better life. The truth is: that's just what helps them sleep at night.

Q: What are you having for dinner tonight?
A2: Some lassi (yogurt with water & almonds) and vegetables. I'm a veg.
A1: Probably pizza and some soda.

Q: Are you married?
A2: No. Marriage is just a legal act; just a piece of paper.
A1: Married? The closest thing to marriage I've seen is people agreeing to be married...not really legal.
But no, [I'm] not married.

Q: Do you have any children?
A1: [snickers softly.] Yeah, that's what everyone wants: kids to bring along to work. We don't exactly have day care services available for us.
Q: That's a 'no'?
A1: Yeah, that would be a no.
A2: [laughs out loud] Nah. Don't think they'll be happy living in a coffin hotel with hookers and dockers runnin' around.
Q: Actually, one of my interviewees had parents that were similar to runners. He was raised on the streets, he claims.
A2: Drek happens.
A1: Yeah, but the last thing you want is a two year old being dragged along while you are going to be shot at.

Q: Have you ever been shot?
A1 Been shot at, stabbed, clubbed, and so on. Who hasn't?
A2: [chuckles] Yes , was shot once [shows some nasty scar on her belly]. Stabbed twice [shows her right leg and right arm].

Q: Have you ever been arrested?
A1: Once. Luckily the person I was arrested with kicked up enough racket to make Lone Star decide it was a better idea to let us go.
A2: Never. I always managed to escape the 'Star here and other police forces around the world. My criminal record is snow white for now. And yes, that means i got a legal sin...some less legal, too, if you wanna know.

Q: What cyberware do you own?
A2: [point to her eyes, then shows her palm and steals interviewer's pen in the blink of an eye!]
Enough for you?
A1: I doubt many people would answer that, but obviou
sly I have a jack. It would be like me asking your measurements.
A2: [looks at interviewer] Two meters high, 90 kg or so...100...C cup...70, 90 ...

Q: Do you vote?
A1: [shakes head] Of course not. Would have to exist for that.
A2: Man. Please be serious! I do vote. Not in UCAS, so i didn't. Voted a long time a go.

Q: Who do you respect?
A2: Me...or tryin' to.
A1: People who are good at what they do without havin
g an ego large enough to roll over Seattle. [chuckles]
A2: It's finished? can we suck your eyes outta your skull now? [giggles]

Understandibly, the interview completed, I was quick to leave the establishment (after getting a Coke from the bartender - I actually had to argue with him that I didn't want any alcohol in it!). My answers collected, I was able to return to the corporate zone, but will wait to enter the data until the university's IC cleans up its datastores.

I have begun to look into the possibility of acquiring and carrying a small firearm for self-protection (I doubt the hand razors mom insisted I get for evening walks across the campus are going to cut it out here!)

Another day, another interview for my Parapsychology thesis. I managed to postpone a meeting with the campus' CSEC Board (Corporate Student Evaluation Committee) in order to watch a pirated tridcast highlighting the female shaman / bounty-hunter Andrea McBaine (she is, like, SO flash!) before the corporate sensors shut it down. Persuant to the success rate of finding candidates at Dante's, there seemed time enough afterwards to take a side-trip off-campus in hopes of squeezing in another interview.

This time the cab driver, another ork, insisted on dropping me off at Club Penumbra, citing its popularity with the university crowd (others go off-campus like I do? Wow!!) Given my tight schedule, however, I flashed some corp scrip under his pug nose (homo sapiens robustus are naturally imprinted with a hightened olfactory sense) and had him take me to Dante's.

Again, I found a spot on the curb outside the club where I sat and waited for candidates (and listened to Concrete Dreams. Apparently native to Seattle. Very cool!)

Some past interviewees breezed by, one or two even acknowledging my presence (check it: shadowrunners are nodding to ME! My suite-mates are SO jealous!) This is when I spotted Subject Seven: a rather young male elf who had similarly perched himself on the entrance to Dante's. I initiated contact where he stated that he was new in Seattle, recently from the Tir, where he used to work. He agreed to a quick interview, insisting that we do so over lunch. Having skipped breakfast at the univsity caf, I agreed. He led me past the troll bouncers (homo sapiens ingentis' teeth are constantly regenerating!) a short distance into Dante's to an in-bar eatery called the "Seared Flesh".

This is when Subject Seven declared that he had no cash with which to buy lunch, so I footed the nuyen for our food (chalked it up to my folks as a university expense), and I began my interview:

Q: What are you? A runner, or a shadowrunner?
A: I suppose I could be called a shadowrunner. I'll take any job as long as I don't have to kill any elves in the process.

Q: How long have you been a runner?
A: Since i was a kid.
Q: You look kind of younger than the other runners.
A: [shrugs helplessly]. I started young. I ain't gonna tell ya my real age.

Q: Without getting into much detail, what do you do?
A: Whatever the job demands. Killing. Protecting. Running packages.

Q: How much nuyen do you make per night?
A: Back in the Tir I could make as much as a mil a job. Here i ain't got a rep, and i ain't done any biz yet.
Q: Your rep from the Tir hasn't preceeded you?
A: You know how secretive they are down there.

Q: What do you think of the law?
A: [shrugs]
Q: I mean, being a shadowrunner you must cross paths with them a lot.
A: I don't really care one way or the other, as long as the Star doesn't interfere with my work. They leave me alone as long as I ain't packing heat tha
t they can see...and i don't geek their officers.

Q: What do you think of the corps?
A: Sometimes I work for 'em, sometimes against. Again, no real hatred or liking for 'em.
Q: Do you agree with their policies? Their methodology?
A: Not especially, but I can't really do drek to stop 'em. All I can do is slow it down through biz.
Q: Okay, let's go with that: how? How can you claim to slow down a corporation's methodology, which you
claim not to agree with, by working for them?
A: You got it all wrong honey. I do work against 'em to slow 'em down.
Q: So is your goal to stop the corporations, then?
A: My goal is to look out for me and mine. If I can be a thorn in a corps' side in the process, that's a bonus.

Q: Apart from the money, what do you hope to achieve by doing what you do?
A: Ain't much to achieve besides the nuyen...the corps are unstoppable these days.

Q: What are you having for dinner tonight?
A: [laughs] The Hellburger you were so kind to buy for me.

Q: Are you married?
A: Nah, ain't found a woman who can stand being with a runner yet.

Q: Do you have any children?
A: Nope.

Q: Have you ever been shot?
A: A few times, yeah.
Q: Can you be more specific?
A: [pulls up his shirt to reveal a line of scars across his abdomen] Got shot six times by a slag packing an AK-97 on a run that went south.
Q: Is there a group of people you find that are more apt to do the shooting?
A: Chippers, and Renraku security. Oh, and third-tier gangers.

Q: Have you ever been arrested?
A: Yeah. Spent 2 years in the slam back in the Tir.
Q: Curious. Can you state the reasons for your incarceration?
A: [chuckles] Remember that run that went south?

Q: What cyberware do you own?
A: An encephalon, wired reflexes, thermographic vision, a reflex trigger, headware phone and radio and a smartlink. Got some bioware, too.
Q: That's a lot of chrome! Where'd the cash come from??
A: Biz back in the Tir.

Q: Do you vote?
A: Naw, the elections are rigged anyway.

Q: Who do you respect?
A: People who earn it.
Q: And that would be? I mean, what are the qualities you are looking for in a person for you to be able to respect them?
A: Loyalty, bravery, drek like that.
Q: Well, it can't be drek if these are virtues you hold dear enough to find them in other people.
A: True. [subject would not elaborate further]

With evening fast approaching and the interview concluded, I thanked Subject Seven who also agreed to have his picture taken (and gave me his phone number). I quickly returned to the corporate sector. En route, I noticed a few places which offer to sell firearms for self-protection. As I recall, Andrea McBaine prefers the Colt Manhunter. But how would I go about getting my hands on such a weapon? (I guess I could also dress like her, but then I would be SUCH a poser!) I hear a Lone Star officer was shot and killed in front of Dante's shortly after my departure. It is regrettable, but our corp Secteams would never be so easily defeated.

Hmmmm, perhaps, once I land that Junior Exec position in the corporation after graduation, I can chalk up this study as 'Hazard Pay'.

A hallmark day for my thesis, bringing with it both good and unpleasant news:

First, I believe that one of my suite-mates is endeavouring to put a halt, or at the very least, expose my research.

To ellaborate: having entered the data from my last interview (very short), I was able to convince a freshman decker (by means of a small bribe) to make me a hologram of Andrea McBaine’s weapon: a Colt Manhunter (she field tested it for a full year before declaring it ready for the market!). I plan to set it on my desk in my dorm room. I returned to the resplex just as a discussion between my friends was ending. One of them, who I will not mention here (but her dad is Senior Executive of Sanitation & Waste Management. Where does HER tuition money come from?!) stormed past me as she was grabbing her coat (Vashon Island! SO yesterday!!) and uttered a few words regarding my research and the questionable origins of my birth. After she left, my suite-mates would not at first confide to me the nature of the discussion, but the decker did confess after I threatened to expose her late-night forays into the campus' datastores (specifically, the ones where all examination results are stored!)

Because of jealousy of the success of my thesis' research, it is possible that word of my trips off-campus and away from the corporate zone may reach the ears of my corporate academic advisor, or even worse: the university's board of corporate directors! While firm in my conviction to my research and the validity of my data, I now am having to be even more secretive in my comings and goings, and have become watchful of key students with whom I am having to compete (which is pretty much all of them! Yay me.)

Still, strong in my beliefs that this is the right thing to do, I was able to slip away during one of the mandatory campus assemblies extolling the virtues of our corporation and took a cab back to that place of excitement and danger: Dante's.

With evening fast approaching, I hovered near the small crowd assembled outside the establishment, and even recognized a few familiar faces. The tridcasts referred to these individuals as criminals. But, be that as it may, these were my test subjects: my research base. Strangely, as I stood there, I recalled the newscast about the Lone Star officer who had been shot and killed here the night before. Even as my mind remembered the name and the face of the victim, another Lone Star officer came marching down the street: young, eager, and hungry. From the glares the young recruit got by those lurking outside Dante’s, I felt in my stomach the sudden feeling that I was looking at a dead man! The officer just stood there, attempting to stare down those around me; the people the trids called ‘murderous psychotics bent on undermining the stability and safety of corporate development’. When his eyes met mine with the same baleful hate reserved for the real shadowrunners, I knew there and then that my self-protection was paramount!

I approached one of my past subjects and inquired on getting a firearm (by legal means, of course). When he asked tentatively for the make and model, I immediately remembered the hologram I’d commissioned earlier! I showed him my hologram of the Colt Manhunter, and he not only agreed to acquire the weapon for me, but insisted that I go with him.

I note here the alarming unease I felt. I mean, to arrange the purchase of an item is one thing, but to be lured away from the safety of a crowd (even if it is a gathering of vigilantes) and be dragged on an evening romp through the shadows is an entirely different matter altogether! However, seeing as this was one of my interviewees, I trusted to karma that I would not be harmed (besides, I did have those razors my mom put in me!) The three of us, then (one of his companions accompanied us: a male wearing wolf pelts) proceeded to roam the streets of Seattle in what was an armored van. At first, we hit a collective of back alleys called “Little Chiba”, and we even shopped at a few weapon stores in Tacoma which was pleasant enough. Within the sewers of Chinatown (not so pleasant!) was another gathering of shops, where I am certain illegal wares are being sold! Most unpleasant was our descent to the district of Redmond, which was nothing more than a collection of derelict buildings teeming with the filth of society (despite the reassurances of my guides to the opposite!)

We returned to Dante’s within the hour (not only did we find an exact duplicate of Andrea McBaine’s weapon, but also the ammunition for it and a smartlink system which was compatible with the one my combat wrestling coach convinced my parents to put in me!) Back at the bar’s entrance, tensions had risen. The same, young Lone Star officer was still there, leering at the crowd, as if challenging to them. Certainly, this type of behaviour was not sanctioned by the Lone Star ruling body! Given the unease and hate brewing amidst those assembled, I knew that it could only end in the worst way possible. Now, with my newly-acquired Colt Manhunter at my side and openly displayed, it seemed to heighten the officer’s hatred towards me! It wasn’t long before the inevitable occurred: the Lone Star officer drew his weapon and opened fire at us! (That’s twice now! What am I, a bullet magnet?) I scrambled, fearful for my life as one of those on the curb returned fire and killed the officer with a single shot! I screamed. I trembled. I wanted to leave this place and never go back! Certainly, it would have been the solution to all my concerns: no more violence, no more uncertainties, no more fears of the university ruling body finding out about me!

But a conviction firing my will sat like a monolith in my stomach, as it did the last time someone was murdered in my presence: immovable; unshaken; resolute. The eyes of those who had only moments ago helped me were now boring down into in my soul! I did not run. I did not cry. Instead, I locked eyes with the first person I saw and did what I had originally come here to do: talk to people and conduct my interviews.

I now see that death is a part of life. Moreso on the streets outside the corporate sector. So long as it is not by my hand and I am not forced to defend myself, then so be it.

I WILL be a junior executive for the corporation, and nothing…no one, is going to stop me!

I met Subject Eight outide Dante's. At over 5.6 meters tall, "large" did not suffice to describe the stature of this giant male! I confess to being at first hesitant to approach the candidate, but the pressure of completing my thesis and my recently acquired Colt Manhunter at my side permitted me to initiate contact with grim determination, albeit tinged with skepticism.

A note on giants, or homo sapiens ingentis colossi (a derivative strain on ingentis). They are, at the cellular level, almost identical to ingentis, but the cytoplasm is nearly six times as viscous to support the increased mass, as are the cell membranes which are fused with as much as twelve times the plasma. The result is an increase in body mass and skeletal structure, but exhorts a terrible strain on the cerebral cortex where the thicker cell walls can slow mental functions (got an A+ on my Parabiology quiz! YES!!)

Subject Eight agreed to an interview, and led me to...well, an ice cream parlor. The interview then started, I soon discovered just how much strain ingentis colossi's brain can be under due to its physical makeup:

Q: What are you? A runner, or a shadowrunner?
A: Kruk is Kruk.
Q: Yes, but do you consider yourself as being a runner, or a shadowrunner?
A: Kruk not call Kruk nothing because Kruk do what Kruk need to do to protect friends and smash meanies. Kruk make sure Kruk not hungry, and Kruk do all kinds of smashings and jobbies.

Q: How long have you been a runner?
A: Lady mean how long Kruk smash and work?
Q: Well, yes.
A: Kruk do stuff for long time. Kruk start when Kruk still little: Kruk take things from peoples to peoples so Kruk not go hungry. Now Kruk bigger, stronger, have more shinies, and do lots of stuff!

Q: Without getting into much detail, what do you do?
A: Kruk smash.
Q: Do you do anything else?
A: Kruk do what peoples pay Kruk to do. But Kruk not whore. Fox tell Kruk that peoples who let other peoples touch special place for shinies is whores, and whores are bad, and Kruk not whore.

Q: How much nuyen do you make per night?
A: Kruk make lots of shinies. Kruk not count good 'less Kruk take time and Calcy-later. But Kruk make 'nough to be comfy. Kruk like shinies.
Q: What do you, then, consider to be "comfy"? A box on the street? A coffin hotel? A doss? A corporate suite?
A: Kruk is comfy being in nice bed, warm with full tummy, with triddy and viddy to watch so Kruk not miss cartoonies.

Q: What do you think of the law?
A: Kruk like policeymens. Kruk think policeymens job good 'cause policeymens protect peoples. But policey not like Kruk or Kruk smashy weapons. Kruk smash policeymens by accy-dents but only 'cause Kruk get hit first.

Q: What do you think of the corps?
A: Kruk not know much 'bout 'em. Kruk know big buildings have peoples that not like Kruk and shoot Kruk like policeymens, and Kruk smash.

Q: Apart from the money, what do you hope to achieve by doing what you do?
A: Kruk want make all nice peoples happy. Kruk want make lots friends and get 'nough shinies so Kruk and friends always have what Kruk and friends want.

Q: Who’s your favorite media personality?
A: Kruk like lots, but if Kruk have choose...Kruk like Power Rangers! MORPHIN' TIMES!
Q: I seem to recall something about "Rangers", close to the time of the Shiawase Decision! A program back on those old videos which entailed...young people in colorful costumes...fighting...giant robots? Why do you like these "Power Rangers"?
A: 'Cause Power Rangers do what Kruk want do. Power Rangers beat meanie heads and make world safe for nice peoples. Kruk always want be Purple Ranger. Purple is Kruk favorite color.
Q: I saw a few memotrids from the 5th Age: there wasn't a Purple Ranger.
A: Kruk know. Kruk want be first Purple Ranger! Or Kruk be Rainbow Ranger 'cause Rainbows are purdy.

Q: What are you having for dinner tonight?
A: Kruk probably eat pizza, Heckburgers and frenchy fries, and icey creams with sody pops!
Q: You mean Hellburgers?! From the "Searing Flesh" in Dante's?"
A: [nods] Uh-huh, but Kruk not 'posed to say bad words.

Q: Are you married?
A: Ewwww, no! Girls have cooties, even though Kruk eat special cootie protection rock that make Kruk immune. Kruk still not want risk Kruk self 'gainst cooties.

Q: Do you have any children?
A: Nope, Kruk not kissy girls on mouth.
Q: That....is not how children are conceived, though!
A: [insisting] Uh-huh! And Kruk know, 'cause Kruk know all 'bout girls. Kruk have to know so Kruk not get attacked by cooties. Babies get made when a boy and girl--[at this point, Subject Eight screamed and grabbed his head, forcing a pause in the interview. After ingesting some of his medication, Subject Eight appeared ready to proceed]
A: Kruk forget take Kruk meddy sins. Kruk always get big head hurt if Kruk forget.
Q: Do you want me to call someone? Do you require medical assistance??
A: No...Kruk okay. Kruk just need rest. It happen 'cause Kruk have special stuff in body that make hurty stopper. If Kruk not take meddy sins hurty stopper build up and hurt Kruk.
Q: Are you okay to continue?
A: Kruk fine. Kruk just need rest. But Kruk was saying: babies get made when boy and girl like each others and kiss on lips. It create baby in girl's tummy and after while girl has baby. It okay, not every peoples know as much as Kruk.
Q: Has no one ever explained to you about intercourse and pregnancy?
A: Intercourse? That road silly! Road not have anything to do with baby tummies.

Q: Have you ever been shot?
A: Uh-huh. Kruk been shot lots. Kruk big 'n' tough though, and Kruk wear lots armor so guns not hurt Kruk so much. Lady want see Kruk gun marks?
Q: Sure.
A: [slowly pulls off his clothing, revealing his thick grey hide and numerous scars that adorn it, ranging from bullet holes to large scars that seem to have been inflicted by bladed weapons] It okay though, 'cause Kruk still here!
Q: And do most of those scars originate from one certain group of people? Who is more apt to do this to you?
A: Lots peoples shoot Kruk...Meanie heads, Policeymens, peoples in big buildings. Kruk think nobody like Kruk sometimes.

A: You mentioned what you call "policeymen". Have you ever been arrested?
Q: Nope. Kruk good. Kruk only smash policeymens when policeymens hit Kruk first. Kruk get stuck under policey place though. Kruk friends had come and get Kruk out.
Q: YOu were stuck? You mean you were arrested and put in a cell?
A: Nope, Kruk look in place where policeymens put meanieheads, and door close behind Kruk. Door extra strong from side Kruk was on so Kruk not able smash door open. Kruk is good boy.

Q: What cyberware do you own?
A: Kruk have lots. Kruk not know all names but Kruk get stuff that make Kruk bigger and stronger, make Kruk better smasher.
Q: Well, where is your chrome located? Can you show me?
A: Nope. Kruk get stuff that go all over. Kruk
get metally bones, she-thing, stuff for muscles that make Kruk bigger and faster. Then Kruk have stuff that make Kruk stop hurting quicker and help Kruk not get hurt at all.
Q: "She-thing?"
A: What lady asking? Why lady look at Kruk special place?
Q: Just...checking to see if you spilled some ice cream!
A: Oh...Okay.

Q: Do you vote?
A: No, Kruk not know how.

Q: Who do you respect?
A: Kruk respect Kruk bestest friend of all, Grundoor, and all Grundoor's friends. Kruk respect Wolfy Kitty too 'cause she do neat magicky tricks.
Q: Well, what qualities do these people possess that makes them so special to you?
A: Grundoor bestest smasher and Grundoor help
Kruk. Grundoor help all peoples Grundoor can and still be big 'n' strong; stronger than Kruk. Grundoor has nice friends, too. Kruk like how nice Grundoor friends are to Kruk, and Wolfy Kitty is bestest girl Kruk know. She fuzzy and nice, and
always make Kruk feel special 'cause Wolfy Kitty not treat Kruk like Kruk dumb.

The interview concluded, I was unsure on how to translate these findings into my existing data.
Meanwhile, Subject Eight insisted on demonstrating what he called "Icey Pops", which he did by taking a "Delirious"-sized condom and unrolling it, shoving the smaller end of a pool cue into it to stretch the prophylactic open. When it was fully-stretched, Subject Eight began pouring Coke into the condom until it was almost full and pinched the condom closed around the cue, stating that he now only needed to freeze the whole for his invention to be completed!

I have been forced to make a seperate entry into my thesis database for this interview, albeit the findings - from a Parapsychological standpoint - might prove to be invaluable as the research progresses.

A message from my corporate academic advisor was waiting for me upon my return from our Fiscal Sciences’ weekly SubOrb trip (London, this time, with what I found to be it’s draconic laws regarding corporate control!) My advisor needed to question me regarding a telecom he’d received from an anonymous caller regarding my illegal forays off-campus. I assured him that these were nothing more than unsubstantiated rumors, and that I could prove that I had been, in fact, in the campus’ library during the times of my alleged trips away from the corporate sector (my means of more arm-twisting on my decker suite-mate who was able to make false search entries linked to my PDT number in the library’s matrix.)

Nevertheless, I now had a feeling that I had to quicken my research and collate more data for each trip to Dante’s. I left the university premises (after entering a false claim in my FS report that I was suffering from jet-lag), and took a cab to Dante’s, were a larger crowd than usual was lingering outside the multi-level bar. Some familiar faces of past interviewees were there, and one of them even introduced me to some of his colleagues – and prospective candidates: a rather short woman (Subject Nine) and her brother (Subject Ten). He was one of my guides that had helped me acquire my Colt Manhunter the previous night (which I have so far kept hidden in my briefcase).

They agreed to an interview, but seemed apprehensive, citing rumors that some very dangerous shadowrunners were out and about. For my own protection, then let me choose the location of the interview. On my cab ride to Dante’s I had remembered passing a State park which appeared serene enough to conduct my interviews without interruptions or guns. This, then, is where I led them, amidst peace and quiet. (It was, I soon discovered, the very opposite!) Amidst the greenery, now darkened with the coming of night, I conducted my interview with the woman (A1) and her brother (A2)

Q: What are you? A runner, or a shadowrunner?
A1: Ah, now. I am what I am. I like the shadows. Makes me look pretty.
Q: You mentioned the shadows. Then you're a shadowrunner?
A1: If you want to call it that. Then yes.
A2: (shrugs) Honestly no idea what to call myself. I came here following her [motions to Subject Nine], so I guess you could lump me in with her.
A1: [motions to Subject Ten] My brother.
Q: From the tridcasts, a runner works as a sort of freelance agent. But a shadowrunner is more of a vigilante
with little to no scrupples or emotion. Which one are you?
A1: Well, I have emotions. But I stand with shadowrunner.
A2: A runner. I have morals, though a viglante I can sometimes be. I prefer to think of myself as a protector of the ones I love.

Q: How long have you been a runner?
A1: For a time. A good time. I started a long time ago, when I was young.
A2: She went into it. I followed to do my best to keep her safe.

Q: Without getting into much detail, what do you do?
A1: Annoy the frag out of people? With various instruments not limited to my mouth.
A2: I use my powers to keep her safe. And to protect myself, of course.
A1: Your powers? And those would be?
A2: [gestures to interviewee, using his magical abilities to lift her off the ground momentarily] I'm a shaman.

Q: How much nuyen do you make per night?
A1: Depends. Well, if I crack my whip. About a hundred to two hundred thousand nuyen. I am a heavy task master, eh?
A2: No much, honestly, Whatever I can pick up on my own. Usually I just follow around these two and help them with magic whenever they need it.
Q: So, are you employed by these two here? [motions towards Subject Nine and her male companion]
A1: Employed. What is that? No employed! That is my brother.
A2: [shakes his head] Not in the least. They're my family. I look after them.

I should point out that, by this time in the course of my interview, we had been accosted twice by patrolling Lone Star officers who apparently took exception to the presence of my subjects in the State Park. A third aggressor – nothing more than a common street thug of which the non-corporate areas teem with (according to the corporate newstrids) - also attacked us! My companions were able to protect me, but the validity of the park’s safety was put into question. I acknowledged the need for a more secure, possibly secluded area, and agreed to follow my subjects to a location of their choice. So we left the park, and I was led down several streets to a bar where my candidates were apparently well-known by its employess. Thus, in a oak hardwood lounge, the interview continued:

Q: What do you think of the Law?
A1: They can all die. And I'll be happy to send them!
A2: There is no law in this city. They try, and fail.
Q: That's rather harsh, isn't it? What of all the security the law officers bring you?
A2: They bring me none. I trust only my blade and my powers and my family.
Q: But billions are spent annually for its upkeep. Certainly Lone Star, or Knight Errant for that matter, MUST have a redeeming factor?
A1: No. They are useless.
A2: They don't. All those poor saps do is end up dead. It's sad for their own families.
A1: Sad for their family. Idiots! They should not have joined. Everyone knows: you wield a gun for a living, you are going to die by it. One day or another. You don't have families. You don't make babies. That's a fact of this life. You don't retire. You’re going to die.

Q: What do you think of the corps?
A1: [snorts] Corps. Corpse more like. Dead weight.
Q: No, I meant the megacorporations.
A1: Yes. I am saying they are dead weight.
A2: They act like they help this city, all they do is oppress it. But, I admit, their little infighting gives us the work we need.
Q: So, you actually benefit from the instability of a corporate structure?
A2: Basically.
A1: What [Subject Ten] said.

Q: Apart from the money, what do you hope to achieve by doing what you do?
A1: [slightly sad] I don't know any other way to be.
A2: It's all we've known, honestly.
Q: But are there no intrinsic feelings you get? A goal other than monetary gain you hope to achieve?
A2: To survive?
A1: No. Just big house, safe family. They are all I have.

Q: Who’s your favorite media personality?
A1: Hmm, no one really. I only watch the trid when I'm feeling a little under the weather. Or a little, you know, tired.
A2 [chuckling] I haven't watched anything on the tri-d other than the news. I spend most of my ....downtime, if you will, in my lodge. I prefer to read than watch the trid.

Q: What are you having for dinner tonight?
A1: Curried coconut shrimp with some iced tea. Ooh, it’s this nice place down in Tacoma. I love going down there to eat.
A2: A T-bone steak, medium well.

Q: Are you married?
A1: Am I married? [laughs] What a question! No. I am not married. Though I do belong to someone, eh? And they belong to me.
A2: Nah, I'm not married.

Q: Do you have any children?
A1: [frowns and shakes her head firmly] No.
A2: Nope.

Q: Have you ever been shot?
A1: [smiles faintly] Well, of course.
Q: Can you be more specific? Where? And by what kind of people?
A1: [pulls over her jacket and points toward a rather ragged looking wound to her shoulder, seeming to have
just healed. She turns her arm slightly to expose a long furrow that looks as if a bullet grazed her. Then she opens her corset, exposing her upper torso entirely to show off a starshaped wound on her abdomen and another on her hip.]
Q: And who did this to you? Are there types of people who are more apt to shoot at you?
A1: Ah, just people. Like I said: you shoot, you’re going to get shot back at.
A2: [exposes his chest and motions towards a series of tightly grouped bullet wounds stitching across his chest] Too many times to count, and by anyone who I get in the way of when defending myself or my family. [Then turns around to show a series of long slash marks that seem to wrap around from front to back] And this was a monowhip that almost got me, and…[pulls down on the top of his pants just enough to expose his hips to reveal a series of small bullet wounds] That was a shotgun burst that winged me.

Q: Have you ever been arrested?
A1: [holds up a finger] One time. Not here. In spain. That is where we are from. I was not charged. I had a whip then too.
A2: Yeah. That wasn't a fun day.
Q: And the reason for you arrest was?
A1: [chuckling] I was being fresh. I mooned the cop. He took offense.
A2: That wasn't the worst part. I dropped the cop’s pants with a spell and lit his boxers on fire.
A1: He was so mad!
Q: You mentioned that you're from Spain. Where else have you been?
A1: Spain. Here. That’s all. Had to leave in a hurry.
A2: [nods solemnly]

Q: What cyberware do you own?
A1: [smiling] Now, you do not expect a girl to give all her secrets away, eh? We will stick with plenty and all over.
Q: Some of my past interview candidates have been more than willing to both say and show their chrome. I do find that there is a small percentage of subjects who, like you, are adamant in not revealing their cyber and bioware implants.
A1: [holding out her finger] Pull it.
Q: [pulls at Subject Nine’s finger, which merely slides off] And this finger is used for?
A1: You put things in it, girl.
Q: A secret compartment! [to Subject Ten] Sir? No chrome? I assume that, being a shaman, any cyberware would be anethema to you.
A2: [nods, poking at his flesh] Yup, all natural for me.

Q: Do you vote?
A1: Vote? No.
A2: Vote? What’s the point? What can one person's vote do when someone can, say, buy-off the Arcology and get all their votes?

Q: Who do you respect?
A1: Ah, my brother. My lover. Those that have earned it.
Q: And how is that earned? What are the qualities you look for in someone for you to be able to respect them?
A1: Well, it can be complex. It can be simple. It is more like a vibe. And how they treat my family, too.
A2: [taps at his lips before nodding] Yup. Just my sister and [a friend]. Those are the ones I trust the most and have earned it. I can't stand half of the "runners" who stand around Dante's acting like they are badass and demand our respect. It’s pathetic.
Q: [to Subject Ten] Same question as your sister, then. What virtues does one need to be deemed worthy in your eyes?
A2: Hmm. Honesty. Something pretty rare in this line of work, but you find it on the true people worth trusting.

My interview concluded, I made haste to leave the premises, as my test subjects began to voice their wishes to take me to a ‘shooting range’, and some of them voicing at how “fun” it would be for me to kill another human being. Their eccentric personalities aside, I found myself able to confide and trust in these candidates, what with the assistance and protection they have given me on numerous occasions. It would be terrible if I should hear of their deaths on the tridnews!

My early-morning return to the campus was uneventful, or at least until I got to my dorm room, where the holodisplay on my door was flashing with a single word some unknown ill-wisher left me: “Wannabe!”

One of the advantages of having a decker as a suite-mate is that, on a good day, she’s able to bypass the corporate trid sensors just long enough to get through to some of the more unconventional programming available off-campus, if only for a few moments. We caught an episode of “Golden Glory”, in which twenty people are dropped in the middle of a combat zone awash with deadly devices and traps, with prizes going to those few who survive (one of my suite-mates who studies Corporate Public Relations insists that the contestants are volunteers, but after seeing the way some of the players move – much like the street dregs I see in my trips away from the corporate sector: it’s as if they were high on some hallucinogenic substance - I’m not so sure!)

Of course, this mere act of matrix piracy, though mildly entertaining, adds fuel to my ever-mounting list of heinous crimes against the corporation that I use to blackmail the decker into doing the occasional “favor” for me. In preparation for some more research off-campus, I had her once again falsify ident records for me, placing me in some obscure location within the corporation’s control zone, while I ventured forth once again to Dante’s!

The cab driver claimed to have remembered me, though I did not recall him particularly (these orks do have a tendency to all look the same). After paying my fare, I was once again on the curb outside the popular establishment with one eye on my reading assignment, another examining all those ubiquitously present for prospective candidates. I am now even able to occasionally blend in with the crowd by making small talk with a few familiar faces of the subjects I’ve dealt with in the past. This is where I med Subect Eleven, an elven woman who agreed to an interview.

I accompanied her to a pub (we took her vehicle) where, amidst some quaint folk music and food, I conducted the interview:

Q: What are you? A runner, or a shadowrunner?
A: I guess people would call me a runner. ‘Shadowrunner’ seems like something dregged up by the media to make us sound cool.
Q: But isn’t there a difference? This IS something known as a ‘shadowrunner’, isn't there?
A: [shrugs] If ya watch enough trid. Most of us are just people who are working to make a buck just like anyone else
Q: A runner is a freelance person who'll do a job, right?
A: I guess. I really don't think about it. I'm the person that gets hired to take care of biz.
Q: But a shadowrunner's really in it deep! They have no moral compass, no honor, and are more akin to vigilantes.
Q: If they are, I have yet to meet any shadowrunners, then. Almost everyone I know has honor of some sort.

Q: How long have you been a runner?
A: I am 26 now, and I started at 16. So about 10 years, give or take a few.

Q: Without getting into much detail, what do you do?
A: I am the chief mechanic and rigger for an organization that specializes in aquiring hard to get items.

Q: How much nuyen do you make per night?
A: I get paid a salary from my boss: it covers my apartment and equipment. But on my own I can make half a mil to a mil easy.

Q: What do you think of the law?
A: It has it's place. The Lone Star...they seem to be getting lesser and lesser candidates every time I turn around. Some days I can't even get a drink without them harassing me.
Q: Why do you think they're harrassing you?
A: Egos. Young guys who think a badge makes them God.

Q: What do you think of the corps?
A: They do their good. Most runners would not have jobs if not for the corps.
Q: So, you are in favor of their policies, or simply the fact that they offer employment opportunities for a runner such as yourself?
A: Personally, as long as they keep offering employment and their policies don't affect me, I couldn’t care less what they do.

Q: Apart from the money, what do you hope to achieve by doing what you do?
A: I stopped running for the cred a long time ago. Right now all I want is to continue to do a job I love.
Q: So you run for running's sake?
A: [shrugs] I run because it is what I do.
Q: But there's no external factor or intrinsic value that comes from your job?
A: I love cars, I love drones, I love rigging. There is no greater joy than spending all day in my garage building a drone that can outperform everyone else's.
Q: Outperform? So, this is a competition of sorts?
A: Everyone desires to be the best at something.

Q: What are you having for dinner tonight?
A: Steak, mashed potatos and a strawberry shake.

Q: Are you married?
A: [looks down as she blushes] Umm...my love life is complicated.
Q: So that's a no? A yes?
A: I wish I knew.
Q: You don't know?
A: I am legally married, yes. But my husband and I do not live together.

Q: Do you have any children?
A: The sprawl is not a place for children.
Q: Understandable, given the voraciousness of its citizens outside the corporate sectors. So no kids?
A: No kids. I do have a fish! Does that count?

Q: Have you ever been shot?
A: Many times
Q: Can you elaborate? Where? Are there people or groups more likely to want to shoot you?
A: Let see: I got shot by a jealous ex-girlfriend of a guy I was with. Been shot by guards at most of the corps…and at the Hab....and the UCAS. Mostly guards shooting at me.

Q: Have you ever been arrested?
A: [shakes her head] I am good at getting away.

Q: What cyberware do you own?
A: The standards for a rigger: control rig, datajack. Gotta smartlink and some dermal sheathing, too.

Q: Do you vote?
A: Not since I left Calfree.
Q: You're originally from there?
A: [nodding] Born and raised in the bay area.
Q: Interesting. Where else have you been?
A: Here, Denver. About it.

Q: Who do you respect?
A: I respect my boss, my parents, and my partners in the biz.
Q: What are the attributes that one must possess for you to be able to look up to them?
A: Someone who is no bullshiter, who tells it like it is and isn't afraid to do some hard work.
Q: Kind of like a no-nonsense type of person?
A: [nod solemnly]

Given Subject Eleven’s efficacy for producing quick answers, I was able to wrap up the interview (after taking a photograph) and returned to Dante’s in search for another candidate (given my warriness of my research’s unpopularity back at the university, I felt it better to acquire as much data as possible with what little time that I felt was left me.)

It had come to this: a handful of students, mostly freshmen, cornered and confronted me this morning on the campus grounds just outside the hermetic library. They were led by a the same suite-mate who had been harrassing me in my resplex (the daughter of the Sanitation & Waste Management senior exec). They threatened that, unless I immediately ceased in my trips off the corporate sector and that I release all my data findings to them, they would report my “illegal activities” to the corporate authorities. I confess that I at first regretted not carrying my recently-acquired Colt Manhunter with me then and there: if only to silence this obstacle to my future’s success once and for all! But, in retrospect, I was later grateful that I did not have my pistol with me, for lack of acting rashly. I half-believe that she WAS trying to goad me into drawing my weapon, so as to seal my academic coffin, thus in this small battle I have emerged the victor. I fled amidst their jeers and shouts of derision and immediately took a cab away from the campus; away from HER, and back to a less demanding environment. More and more I am finding that, despite what the corpvids proclaim, the uncontrolled areas are not as dangerous as I was originally led to believe.

Once at Dante’s, I met once again with a few – one or two - whom I have come to trust. Trust. The word itself seems harmless enough, yet even amidst the Sixth Age it is a commodity which I find severely lacking, especially on a corporate campus seething with scheming, manipulative students [at the corp rallies, we are told to let those unable to survive in this world fall to the wayside and clear the path for those who will one day lead! Am I, then, not worthy?]

Amidst those of us amassed outside the bar, I spotted Subject Twelve: a human male mingling through the crowd, pulling on the strings of his violon. He was no famous media personality that I recognized (most likely a local celebrity), though he was proficient with his instrument. Given the fact that he also carried a sizeable firearm in addition to a musical instrument, I approached this candidate and asked him for an interview. After offering me free tickets to one of his upcoming concerts, Subject Twelve agreed.

I was taken to the Muscovite Lounge, an establishment which featured mostly Russian decor and food, as Subject Twelve was in fact a native of that country. I even heard a balalaika strumming softly while Subject Twelve led me to a private room where, after settling ourselves, I conducted my interview:

Q: What are you? A runner, or a shadowrunner?
A: A musician.
Q: But between gigs, you carry a big gun. You don't use it sometimes?
A: [laughs] I help out my fellow Russians between gigs. I supposed you could call me more of a Russian, really. I am all-around kind of guy, you are being know? Is in explosives, flowers, clothings, guns, music, everything!

Q: Without getting into much detail, what do you do?
A: Hrhm. Most recently, I was in a war. Though, I suppose, it was more a war of words.
Q: A war? Where?
A: Seattle.
Q: The corptrids never made any mention of any wars. There was a fiasco between Aztechnology, Lone Star, and the Yakuza. Is this what you were partaking in?
A: This was small. Though I am surprised you didn’t hear anything. Shots fired outside of Dante’s. There is nothing to worry about, though. It is over.

Q: How much nuyen do you make per night?
A: Per night, I would say it depends. Right now I am broke as Hell. Hasn’t been a show, recently. However, on a ticket-selling night: anywhere from 300,000 to 500,000 a night.

Q: What do you think of the law?
A: I think that, while they are extremely noisy, they have lives, too: children, families. They shouldn’t be killed on sight, as so many do. It is sad to see a corpse lying there and think of the family waiting at home who will get no news.
Q: So, are you actually more compassionate towards the law enforcement officials on the street?
A: [nods]
Q: I confess that most of my test subjects, if not all, have views quite different from yours. The opposite, in fact! The Law is hated and mistrusted.
A: I am sure! Most people [who] just get shot at think: “Fuck the Police!”

Q: What do you think of the corps?
A: Hrhm. Depends on the corporation, I suppose, yes? Some, I can see I would like.
Q: But as a whole do you generally agree on Megacorporate policies and structures?
A: Well, no, not generally. In some cases, yes

Q: Apart from the money, what do you hope to achieve by doing what you do?
A: I hope I can bring music to others.
Q: Interesting. Why?
A: A lot of people could benefit if they listened – really listened! And taking the time out, like, as a concert. To do so: to stop: to listen, can help everyone. Give them new understanding.

Q: Who’s your favorite media personality?
A: I am, of course.
Q: But don't you have anyone you'd like to emulate? Someone famous you may have grown up that's always attracted you?
A: I grew up in Siberia, so not much to emulate.
Q: There are no media personalities in Siberia?
A: [Laughing] Siberia is overrun with Free spirits.
Q: You mentioned Siberia. Where else have you been?
A: Here. Other parts of Russia. Atlanta.

Q: What are you having for dinner tonight?
A: Well, that would depend: what are you having for dinner tonight?
Q: I get funny looks everytime I ask this question.
A: [laughs] No, I am serious.
Q: The question stands: what is normal fare for you around supper time?
A: I cannot say I usually remember. Or mabye I just don’t eat. Sometimes I take others out to eat here, usually, and get different things. Just depends on the day.
Q: I noticed that most of the entrees at the door cater to a Russian palate.
A: [nods] This is the best restaurant in town.

Q: Are you married?
A: No, and I will never be.

Q: Do you have any children?
A: No…would be irresponsible.
Q: I seem to hear that a lot. Why do you think that is?
A: Bringing a child into this world would be silly, you know? You have to try to take care of them while bullets are being shot everywhere? Would be damned foolish, and dangerous! I would be heartbroken if a child of mine was killed because I didn’t pay good enough attention.

Q: Have you ever been shot?
A: [looks down at his body and then laughs] I was hit with a nuclear blast. Does that count?
Q: Well, you obviously survived. What happened?
A: Well, it was because I hopped the border.
Q: So they shot you with a nuclear device?
A: Among other things. Next time you are in [another drinking establishment], look at the picture of me on the wall.
Q: Apart from the nuclear weaponry have you in fact been shot?
A: [nodding] Several times.
Q: Can you elaborate? Where? Who, according to you, is more likely to hold a gun and attempt to shoot you?
A: [laughs] I am sure most everyone has, at one point or another. [Points out to several spots over his longcoat] Some from in Russia, others here.

Q: Have you ever been arrested?
A: Hrhm. No.

Q: What cyberware do you own?
A: Hrhm. A voice modulator, some smartlink.

Q: Do you vote?
A: I did in Siberia. Though was more voting for chief of town.

Q: Who do you respect?
A: I respect those who earn it. Those who can show honor and integrity through means other than shooting everyone up.

At this time, although my interview was over, Subject Twelve had several questions for me, mostly pertaining to my research and my life in the corporation. He even questioned the reasons why I was conducting my interviews, stating that I had been misled by all that the corporation taught we; that all which the corporation gave me and told me had merely rendered me helpless and totally dependent on it. Though I denied these unfounded and inflamatory statements, I felt in my heart that there may have been some element of truth to his words. I was confused, and I was upset…enough that I felt uneasy being confined in this room with this person who had just clouded my perfect vision of the future…no, perhaps he had in fact shed light on it. My steps quickened as I left: did I retreat in anger or in fear? Was I once again running away? But what was I running away from?

A cab back to Dante’s to squeeze in another interview was pointless, so I returned to the corporate resplex and to a new problem: in my ignorance, I had hoped that those few students around me who posed a threat to the success of my research were content to harrass me on occasion. Though stoic before their infantile acts, I could not help but sob in desperation when I discovered another summons by my corporate academic advisor posted on my dorm room’s holodisplay panel. Imagine my surprise when I was further informed that not only my advisor, but also a junior executive member of the corporate academic control board, as well as an investigative team by the corporate security office would be there!

The meeting is scheduled for the day after tomorrow. Until then, some thought and analysis are required, followed by some decisive action. I know what I need to do, but dare I do it?

No sooner had I returned from another trip to Dante’s that once again the daughter of the W.M.D. (Waste Management & Disposal) senior executive confronted me. [I had earlier perused some Fifth Age archives and discovered that the initials WMD also stood for Weapons of Mass Destruction. In her case, I believed that this terminology also applied). WMD reminded me that my interview...my trial, was in two days! I once again attempted to ignore her taunts and locked myself in my dorm room.

I suppose that I was beginning to feel desperate. In the wake of recent events pertaining to my interviews and the comments of those I’ve spoken to, I needed to prove to myself that I was not without my own strengths, and that I would be an asset to the corporation upon graduation, not a liability. My mind decided, I snuck back out of my resplex without notice and padded around the patrolling Secteams far enough from the campus grounds to hail a cab.

Once at Dante’s, I was pleased to see the familiar faces of those who had helped me previously and had, on more than one occasion, given me sound advice (and my Colt Manhunter!) Now I wanted more. I needed to ride the thrill of endangering my own safety and feel the rush of life. My soul felt dead. Grey. I wanted to not only have Andrea McBaine’s weapon, but to use it as she did!

My associates from Dante’s were all too willing to help me, and given my already proficient handling with a firearm (thanks in part to my combat wrestling coach) they agreed to help me take this next step. First of all, they told me, I had to trade-in my simple attire for something more durable, and proceeded to equip me with layers of armored clothing (I felt like a TOTAL nitbrain with that spiked helmet on my head!) They then led me back to the desolate wasteland of Redmond and into the charred ruins of what was once a strip mall. We were met by something right out of a ParaPsychologist’s nightmare: a crazed man who viciously attacked us without provocation! I was indeed fortunate to have such agile bodyguards who were able to calm this madman, if only temporarily, and long enough to continue down into the sewers (major GROSS!!)

In this most unendearing of places I have ever been, I could hear something echoing above the constant drip of brackish water. A moan. A growl. In the dark distance a shadow separated itself from the foul, wet tiled walls and slowly proceeded towards us. I soon realized, thanks to the keen vision of my race - but mostly by the stench assailing my nose, that it was a ghoul!

Even as my mind screamed that this was merely a person infected with the Krieger strain of the HMHVV virus, I discerned no soul in it’s dead eyes which bore into me like a ravenous animal! A glance over my shoulder told me that my companions had stepped away from me, and they indicated with simple nods that here is where I was to face my fears. And fearful I was! My hammering heart threatened to burst from my chest! Behind that nightmarish thing clawing for my life, others had become aware of our presence! Was I to fight all these abominations alone? Logic screamed that I should run, though I wielded my Colt Manhunter just as the first ghoul began tearing at my armored jacket, and I pulled the trigger…

The next thing I knew, we were back in the pub where I had conducted some of my interviews. I felt light-headed with a foul taste in my mouth. I was informed that I had managed to dispatch three of those terrible ghouls (three?! Yay, Home Team!) I think that they sensed the alarm in my face, for they assured me that those metahuman horrors had not managed to touch me, and hence there was no risk of infection. But why, I inquired, was I presently feeling so weak and sickly? They went on to explain that, after my battle, we had started to return to the safety of our vehicle outside the mall when we were ambushed by some of Redmond’s pitiful gangers. Though my bodyguards were able to quell these anarchists by killing one of two of them, the mere sight of one of the the corpse’s lifeless eyes had sent me over the edge, making me sick. This explained my weakness and the taste of bile in my mouth. To ease my fatigue – and my embarassement - I was given some food and drink as I tried to force some feeling back into my fingers which, strangely, had become numb. Given the late hour and amidst their heartfelt congratulations, I thanked my associates and returned to the campus. On my way back in the cab, I realized that I was still wielding my Manhunter (sparking a hint of worry from the ork driver’s eyes). One by one the memories of what happened came to me, and I let the sheer horror and joy of it ride my soul! By the time we reached the campus, I felt lighter and more alive than I ever had! I had passed this trial of will and bathed in the glow of victory! In the back of my mind a glimmer of hope was kindled: perhaps I would also pass my disciplinary interview in two days, after all!

All this came to an abrupt halt when I was met at the back entrance of my resplex by two members of the corp’s campus SecTeams. Standing between them, looking smug, was WMD.

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